


Settle for the World

by Wildfey



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, That's it, anyway it's an au where they're dumbass twenty-somethings backpacking round europe, so ship whatever u want, this was originally written as a polynein prequel tho, you can read this as pre fjorester but it's not any more flirty than the first few eps of cr2 were
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26494801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildfey/pseuds/Wildfey
Summary: Here are 3 things Fjord knew:1)	The money he had carefully saved for travelling is now gone, spent on mistakes and bad ideas (this may have been his own fault).2)	He had a painful peeling sunburn on his nose and the back of his neck (definitely his own fault, as a result of not being able to read the bottles of sun lotion in the drugstore, and being too embarrassed to do the mimes necessary to ask a store clerk about it whilst not understanding the local language).3)	Beauregard Lionett, his travelling partner and friend, had just managed to very much not charm the check in receptionist at the hostel they were meant to be in, resulting in the aforementioned receptionist very much not allowing them to stay there (probably not his fault, but who knows these days).Here is one thing Fjord didn’t know:1)	Where he was going to sleep that night.(Or: The hostelling AU that sprung fully formed from my brain)
Kudos: 13





	Settle for the World

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a prequel to a much longer polynein fic which I have now acknowledged will 99% likely not be written. However, it stands quite nicely on it's own, so fuck it, lets post this. 
> 
> Title is kind of from The Raconteurs ["Steady as she goes" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXAidGQUuns&ab_channel=XLRecordings)but also I realised while posting this that I may have misheard the lyrics so whatever. 
> 
> Also as a warning... I am still catching up from my year break from Critical Role. If I've messed up canon as a result (which should be difficult in an au, admittedly), please forgive.

Here are 3 things Fjord knew:

  1. The money he had carefully saved for travelling is now gone, spent on mistakes and bad ideas (this may have been his own fault).
  2. He had a painful peeling sunburn on his nose and the back of his neck (definitely his own fault, as a result of not being able to read the bottles of sun lotion in the drugstore, and being too embarrassed to do the mimes necessary to ask a store clerk about it whilst not understanding the local language).
  3. Beauregard Lionett, his travelling partner and friend, had just managed to very much not charm the check in receptionist at the hostel they were meant to be in, resulting in the aforementioned receptionist very much not allowing them to stay there (probably not his fault, but who knows these days).



Here is one thing Fjord didn’t know:

  1. Where he was going to sleep that night.



With a final glare from the woman at the desk hitting them like a dagger in the back, Fjord and Beau dragged their bags back onto sore shoulders and shuffled wearily out the door.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.” Fjord grumbled without much actual irritation in his voice. 5 hours of standing on a packed bus trundling across the alps tends to dampen your ability to feel just about anything other than exhaustion.

“The receptionist was a bitch.” Said Beau loudly. She turns around and stares back at the lady on the counter pointedly. A bitch!” She repeats, louder.

“She’s doing her job, can’t fault her for that.” Says Fjord, although privately he agrees, the receptionist was in fact, very much a bitch.

Beau rolls her eyes and stomps off to the Irish bar down the street, nervous tourists and disapproving locals alike parting like the red sea before her stompy doc martens. Fjord follows in her wake, mumbling sorry in half a dozen languages, although he’s pretty sure none of them are the local parlance.

The pub is like a hundred others scattered around European metropolises and tourist centres, with a dark wood bar stained by the tacky remnants of a hundred pints past, an overabundance of American and German tourists, and cheap drinks. The sound of the Dropkick Murphy’s can vaguely be heard over tinny speakers.

These bars always play the Dropkick Murphy’s.

The cheap drinks are the important part, and Beau is already ordering as Fjord catches up with her and sits down. He considers abstaining and saving his money, then remembers he’s already fucked and gets some onion rings. Beau immediately steals one.

They met in an establishment similar to this, in another town, Fjord can’t even remember which. Beau and Fjord has been pushed together in a torn-up leather booth to cheer on a football team (an American football team, as opposed to the general meaning of football in this part of the world). They’d travelled together since, united by being strange people in a strange place, and as harsh and argumentative as Beau is, she seems not to hate him as much as she claims. Two can travel together cheaper than solo, anyway.

Though it is embarrassing when people mistake them for a couple, especially if Beau overhears it. _“God can you imagine.”_ She’d mocked last time she caught wind of the implication. Fjord tried very hard not to feel offended by that, despite the fact that by her nature, Beau is extremely offensive.

“Urgh.” He manages to groan out, his head sinking down onto the bar.

“Get a drink, you’ll feel better.” Beau mumbles through another mouthful of stolen onion rings. He chooses to ignore his travelling companions’ dubious habit of drinking at 2 in the afternoon to instead close his eyes and wish that they had money.

He is consistently disappointed by the fact his wishes won’t come true.

Of course, nobody could say that they didn’t anticipate the consequences of travelling on a train without a ticket. But the tickets were expensive, and they hadn’t seen anyone checking yet. It was just his bad luck that the only train conductor in apparently the whole of Germany had appeared over his shoulder halfway through the journey. He’d almost managed to play the ‘stupid American tourist’ card and get away with it, but when they realised Beau hadn’t got one either, it was all over for the two of them. Between the fine and the price they’d had to pay for the replacement bus ticket to get here, he was just about done for. It’s not exactly like they’d had cash to burn in the first place.

Theoretically there are his savings, but he’d have to find a sympathetic bank to hand them over, and he wasn’t really looking to spend them here. They already need to cover his ticket home. Beau, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of income from family, but judging from the way she talks about them she doesn’t much fancy calling for a loan.

In short, they’re fucked.

He’s not going home yet. He can’t. He promised himself that he’d see it through, however ill-advised as it might be, and he’s not exactly looking forward to leaving Beau behind to inevitably get arrested without his help to smooth things over.

“What’s the plan then.” Beau says, already a step ahead of him in terms of rationalising the situation after fuelling herself with cheap bear. “We sleeping in the bus station?”

The _again_ goes unsaid. Fjord hears it anyway. His back still feels sore when he puts his pack on.

“We can get a coach out in the morning.” He mutters. “Maybe find a 24-hour McDonalds or something and one of us can sleep while the other keeps watch.”

Beau snorts. “Have you _seen_ this fucking town? There isn’t gonna be a 24 hour anything here.” She grimaces out the window. “24-hour rain, maybe.”

They had stopped to see what was apparently a famous gorge. Fjord wasn’t 100% sure he knew what a gorge was, and now he would probably never find out, as it was closed due to rain. How you can close a natural landmark, he wasn’t sure, but the good people of the local area apparently managed it. Unfortunately.

Fjord eventually realised that the insides of his eyelids were unlikely to offer any solutions, and slowly cracked them open to stare at the wall next to the bar instead.

The wall was waving at him.

Rather, the girl tucked into a table next to the wall was waving to him. She was shorter than him but taller than Beau, chubby and quite pretty, maybe in her early twenties, with shining white teeth in a tan face and curling hair, dyed dark blue at the end. She was dressed in typical tourist garb, worn out denim shorts and some sort of fancy macramé top, but the gigantic suitcase she was resting her feet on was a bright, vibrant, neon pink that shone in the dank interior of the bar.

Well, Fjord wasn’t raised to be rude, so he raised a single hand and slowly waved back, a tiny ripple of the fingers.

Evidently, he did something right, because the girl straight up beamed, jumping out of her seat, and dragging her oversized baggage with her to the bar before hopping up into the stool next to him.

“…the fuck.” Beau mutters, and Fjord elbows her.

“Hello.” He says, because he can’t remember the local language (again).

“Are you _Americans!_?” She says, loud enough that several of the bars other patrons turn to stare.

“Uh yes, we are.” He says quickly, to cover up Beaus inevitable muttered “I thought I was a lesbian” behind him.

Their new companion tilts her head slightly. “That’s so cool! I’m going to live in America next year. At least if my visa goes through, and I get good grades, and my mama is ok with me going. But I’m sure it’ll be ok!” Her accent is strong, though not local as far as he can tell, and what kind of local would carry that suitcase or hang out in this bar anyway?

“Where are _you_ from, if you don’t mind me asking, miss…”

“Oh!” She sticks a hand out for him to shake, and he takes it after his sleep-deprived brain takes a moment to process the interaction, noticing pink nail varnish with white polka dots. “Hi, I’m Jester. From Nicodranus!”

“Nice to meet you, Jester from Nicodranus. I’m Fjord, this here is my friend…”

“Beau.” Says Beau, breaking into the conversation to reach across the table and fist bump Jester. “You a traveller too, Jester?”

“I am!” Jester indicates her suitcase, as if it were possible for anyone to miss it. “I’m meeting lots of new people.” She pauses, voice wry. “Though I think maybe a lot of them don’t seem to like me very much, probably because they’re very boring.” She leans forward with the last bit, like she’s sharing a secret in confidence, despite how loud she’s speaking.

Fjord grimaces. “Well, you seem likeable enough to me.” He says. He knows well enough how needlessly cruel people can be when you’re on the outside.

“Oh, I just play tricks on them when they’re mean.” Jester replies with a smile on her face, but she’s twisting a bracelet round and round on a chubby wrist. “But it’s nice to meet friendly people!” She grins. “Where are you guys staying?”

Beau laughs harshly. “A gutter.” She says, voice not lacking bite. Fjord grimaces and turns back to Jester.

“We unfortunately had a couple of issues with our intended hostel.” He says.

“Issues meaning the only money we have right now is via Fjord’s stupid savings card which apparently is impossible to use this side of the Atlantic.” Beau said. “We’re broke.”

“We’ll work something out.” Fjord tries, though he feels even less optimistic about the situation than Beau does. At least she has a little bit of cash, and could have got a dorm bed for herself, but she refused to stay if Fjord couldn’t.

Well, refused isn’t the right terms. Fjord had to drag her out of there before the receptionist called the police.

“Oh no, you guys.” Jester reaches out and pats Fjord on the arm. She leans back. “I know, you can stay with me!”

There’s a pause. “What?” says Beau.

Jester is almost vibrating in place with excitement, grinning as she holds onto Fjord’s arm. “I have a room with twin beds! It’ll be like a sleepover, with friends, and we can have snacks, and…”

“Now hold on just a minute... Jester, are you serious about this?” Fjord starts. He pauses at the happy look on her face. “You barely even know us.” He finishes, somewhat weakly.

“I know you’re Fjord, and you’re Beau. You’re Americans.”

“We could be trying to steal from you.” Says Beau, raising an eyebrow.

Jester scoffs. “Well, you wouldn’t say that if you were, would you?”

“Maybe we’re lowering your defences.” Beau counters, and Fjord recognises her about to go full _Beau_ on this almost stranger and gives her a look.

“Yes, I’m sure you are very sneaky.” Says Jester, rolling her eyes. “For all you know, I could be trying to steal from you.” Her voice makes it perfectly clear that she doesn’t think they have anything worth stealing. Fjord privately agrees with her.

“Sounds like a shitty idea.” Beau frowns, glancing over at Fjord. “I don’t want to sleep in the bus station though.” She says sharply.

Fjord sighs. “I mean, me neither.” He turns back to Jester. “You promise you won’t steal from us, and in return we won’t from you?”

“I promise.” Says Jester, holding out a pinkie finger. Fjord shakes it solemnly, feeling like he’s lost track of the day a little.

Beau downs the last dregs of the shitty beer. She had, Fjord notices, eaten all of the onion rings without him even getting a look in.

“Where’s this room of yours then, Jester?” She says.

**

Here is one thing Fjord is kind of conflicted about:

  1. Being murdered by a cute girl in her fancy hotel room that Fjord couldn’t afford in a month of Sundays, but which does in fact have double beds and a very nice window seat that Beau immediately claims she’s going to sleep on.



There is an en-suite with towels and fancy soap included. Fjord thinks he might already be dead and in heaven.

“This is real nice Jester.” Fjord mutters.

Beau sidles up to him and stage whispers “I feel like we’re in some kind of ‘ _eyes wide shut’_ shit here, man.” He frowns at her, and she shrugs and starts flipping through the channels on the tv. It’s been a long time since they’ve been able to watch a tv that wasn’t in a bar or a youth hostel common room. It almost makes up for the fact that all that’s on is Big Bang Theory in Italian.

Fjord tests the bed with one hand. If he manages to actually sleep here before his organs are inevitably stolen it’ll be the most comfortable rest he’s had in months.

Jester, who seems to be surprisingly at ease with her two guests, breaks off from unpacking her gigantic suitcase to giggle as he relaxes back onto the bed with a sigh.

“Do you like it Fjord?” She asks, with some sort of humour edging out her tone, though whether she’s laughing at him or the situation he’s not sure.

“Most certainly.” He says, staring up at a ceiling without graffiti or cigarette burns.

“Do you want some aloe?”

“What?” He sits up, working over the unexpected subject change.

Jester waves something from her suitcase at him. “Aloooee.” She stretches the word out like he’s an idiot, and he thinks maybe he is. “For your nose. It’s very burnt, you know?”

“I do…uh know that Jester.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” She wrinkles her own nose, seemingly in sympathy.

Fjord grimaces. “A little, I guess.”

Beau barks out a laugh. “He’s spent the last 4 days poking at it when he thinks I’m not looking. Probably stings like a bitch.”

Before he can say anything in response to the slight on his pain tolerance, Jester is already crowding him up against the bed, brandishing some leaves in his face. He tilts his head back with a sigh and lets her go for it. Beau sniggers, because she’s an asshole and enjoys seeing him embarrassed, even though she would undoubtedly be worse if a cute girl were this close to her.

“There.” Says Jester happily. “Doesn’t that feel much better!”

The thing is, it really does.

**

In all honesty (and Fjord does like to imagine himself an honest man, though there are many who would disagree) it’s hard not to like Jester. Of course, Fjord imagines there are those out there who can eke irritation out of her joy and friendliness, Jester herself has confirmed as much, but he can’t imagine feeling anything but cheered up by her sheer enthusiasm for life at a time when he’s very much at the end of his tether.

She orders pizza and tells them undoubtedly fabricated tales of her travels, and Beau and Fjord swap tales of their own. Apparently, Beau and Jester both like the same book series, and Fjord doesn’t pretend to understand the antics they describe of the main character, which mostly seem to consist of copious amounts of sex. Fjord feels slightly guilty as Jester flirts with him by comparing him to the main character, feeling like any other man would surely respond better than he does. But he’s not sure how to, his experiences in the area have hardly been what he would call an education, if anything he was more confused after having sex for the first time. He can’t bring himself to hold it against her though, and he certainly won’t deny that she helped them out of a tight spot.

When he goes to buy bread the next morning, Beau stops him in the car park outside the hotel on the way back in. She’s sitting on a low wall, wearing sweatpants and with her hair loose and wavy over her shoulders in a way it rarely is, clearly not yet awake, but when her eyes meet his, they’re as shrewd as ever, blue like ice over water.

“I’m not sure she’s ever had any friends her own age.” Says Beau quietly in that way she sometimes does, the one he finds unnerving. Fjord doesn’t need to ask who. It makes sense in hindsight, once he thinks about it, and Beau has an insightful streak to her that’s accurate more often than not.

“She tell you that?” Fjord asks, crossing his arms in the chilly morning air.

“Some of it.” Beau sighs, digging a cigarette out of her jacket pocket. She likes the smell, she says, though she likes weed more. It makes Fjord cough, but then again, he’s used to clear air, out on the ocean with nothing but salt and sea spray in his breath. “Some of it’s pretty obvious though.”

“Yeah.” Fjord sighs. Of course. He knows the feeling of being on the outside, cutting yourself to shreds trying to find people who will accept you. He thinks Beau knows too, he was envious of her well off nuclear family until he realised how she speaks of them; like they’re trying to change her. She talks sometimes like when she started travelling there was no place for her to go but the road, like there’s nobody in the world looking out for her but Fjord.

He doesn’t think either of them were ever as open as Jester is.

When they decide to leave town, Beau asks Jester to come with them.

“Can I?” She says, and Fjord replies, “Why not? Just for a bit until we feel like heading in different directions again.”

Two months later, Fjord wonders how he’s somehow managed to gain multiple travelling companions. They make a good team, and he feels like he knows them better than anyone at home. It feels weird, to have made the connection so quickly, but his heart twists at the idea of going on without them. And if Jester sometimes leans a bit closer than is quite friendly, tosses obvious flirts in his direction… It’s not a problem necessarily. He can figure it out sooner or later. Somewhere down the road.

After all, they’ve got a long way to travel yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos or comment if you feel like it, if not, I hope you liked the fic, have a nice day. 
> 
> I have a tumblr: [Wildfey](https://wildfey.tumblr.com/)


End file.
